The Reckless One
by queen of laugh-a-lot
Summary: He was always the reckless one. Finn was the self-loathing one. Klaus was the impulsive one. Elijah was the honourable one. Rebekah was the bitchy one. So he had to fill the shoes of being the reckless one.


**A/N: Because I think Kol doesn't have nearly as much screen time as he should have had. I love the Originals - can't wait for their spinoff. Review and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.**

**The Reckless One**

.

_'Family is not an important thing. It's everything,' - Michael J Fox_

.

He was always the reckless one. Finn was the self-loathing one. Klaus was the impulsive one. Elijah was the honourable one. Rebekah was the bitchy one. So he had to fill the shoes of being the reckless one.

It wasn't hard. Not to him.

Just do whatever you want. No matter what the consequences.

Of course Nik – _Klaus's_ annoying tendency to dagger him was getting old. And irritating.

He never had the same sharpness his half-brother had.

He could never tell when and where Klaus would strike.

.

.

He'd always felt like he never belonged. He didn't feel sorry for himself; it was something he'd always felt as he grew up.

It was always Klaus, Rebekah and Elijah. And Finn would always stay with his mother.

So he'd always sneak away to the woods and he was never missed.

.

.

When Henrik arrived, he'd been overjoyed.

Someone who would look up to him, someone he could teach, laugh, joke with.

Someone who would make him feel _wanted_.

.

.

But it didn't work the way he wanted it to. Henrik looked up to Elijah. Henrik was taught by Elijah. They shared laughter, jokes. While he looked on from the sidelines.

When Henrik died, he wasn't there. He didn't see the grief, the sadness, the way his mother had wanted all of her babies close to her. The way she'd called out for him, the way his siblings had looked all over the village for him.

When he got back from the woods, happy, pleased with his work, his joy had fallen short. His mother had yelled at him for worrying her, his siblings had glared at him with a loathing, a deep hatred that he had not been there.

They became vampires. His siblings didn't register him all that much anymore.

It broke his heart.

So he ran.

He left them.

.

.

He'd like to say he never looked back, but he did.

He came back.

Watched again, from the sidelines, as they found the gifts he'd been making for them all. The wooden wolf it had taken him weeks to whittle for Niklaus ... the sword he'd been painstakingly sharpening for Elijah ... the beaded bracelet he had threaded together after bargaining with his own few things for the beads for Rebekah ... the herbs and plants he had carefully looked for, looking through his mother and Finn's books, realising which were missing, for mother and Finn...

.

.

They called for him, then. Looked for him. They even went into the woods, finding his sanctuary, his little hiding place. They found his materials, his creations.

He waited. Waited for them to stop looking.

They never stopped.

.

.

So, after a while – too long a while –, he came back.

But they weren't there. He was too late.

From what he could gather, Mikael had ripped the village apart, killed his mother and Klaus had left with Elijah and Rebekah.

He never liked his father.

.

.

He watched them bury his mother. He watched them make the vow.

_Always and forever wondering if he would ever be a part of what they had. _

He watched them ... waiting for them to remember him.

They never did.

.

.

Over the years, they met again. It was inevitable.

Rebekah was delighted, Klaus acted like he couldn't care but he saw the wooden wolf, threaded into a necklace, barely perceptible under Klaus's tunic. Elijah wasn't there. So much for always and forever.

They argued. He couldn't remember why. Something about Rebekah and a suitor. Klaus intervened. Even without Elijah, they were still strong together.

So he left again.

He saw them every few years. Sometimes Elijah was there. Sometimes Elijah wasn't there.

The gifts he'd given them were still there.

Klaus never forgot to pack them up, no matter where they went.

.

.

He was visiting again when it happened.

He and Klaus fought. Over something ... again, he couldn't remember.

So Klaus stuck a dagger in him.

.

.

When he woke again, he was angry.

But his family was whole again.

Which was why he stayed.

.

.

It was the same as before, though. His mother and Finn practically joined at the hip, Klaus, Rebekah and Elijah sticking together _always and forever_.

How he hated those words.

.

.

He never truly felt more unwanted until his mother tried killing him and failed miserably.

But he liked it when Klaus included him in his plans and they all worked together for a change. He liked it even more when his siblings were pleasantly surprised by how hard he'd worked to keep them all alive.

When Finn died, he didn't feel anything. Finn had never been close to him, but his siblings felt the loss, despite Klaus's words, unlike him.

But the plan failed. Klaus was put down. Rebekah couldn't stop crying – and she went to Elijah.

They forgot about him.

So he left again.

.

.

He came back when Rebekah called him, delighted, thinking Rebekah finally wanted a family reunion or something. He was crushed when it turned out she only wanted his help.

He still helped.

Because she was his baby sister and he would be _damned_ if he didn't help her.

.

.

But then he made a mistake.

_He almost staked his baby sister._

To be fair, she was going to dagger him. Or maybe she wasn't. He'd felt her hesitate, when he'd been talking about family. And then he brought it out.

The white oak stake.

And he saw the shock flit across her face, the raw surprise in her eyes.

He wasn't going to stake her. He just meant to scare her. He needed her to see things his way – raising Silas was stupid and reckless.

But Klaus came in and pushed him away. Saved Rebekah from himself.

So he left.

.

.

And then he hated them. Hated them all.

Hated how close they were. Hated how they pushed him out. Hated how he was suddenly the bad guy.

Their world could be damned to hell, but he wouldn't give a fig.

It was time for him to care only about himself now.

.

.

Seems like caring about himself wasn't such a good idea, after all, he thinks – unbelievingly humorously – as the white oak stake unleashes a fire in his chest.

He's burning.

Lashes of golden – pure gold – fire stream across him unrelentingly.

His dark eyes glance up – it's Klaus.

He means _Nik_.

Nik looks angry. No, not just angry.

Rage ripples across Nik's face, his werewolf face just moments away from breaking free.

He gives Nik a smile – he's _sorry_.

Sorry for the pain, heartbreak, every little thing he caused.

.

.

And then Kol Mikaelson is _gone_.

.

.

**A/N CONTINUED: Um, so yeah. Kol Mikaelson was so awesome. May he rest in peace. I feel so sorry for poor Klaus, who's stuck in the living room with his dead brother for three days...**


End file.
